


Inferno

by DrSeraphinaCrane



Category: Fright Night (2011), We Need to Talk About Kevin - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Kev is the real monster here, M/M, Mind Games, Poor Jerry, Psychological Torture, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 11:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10696239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrSeraphinaCrane/pseuds/DrSeraphinaCrane
Summary: Some say the world will end in fire...they are right.Jerry has never tasted a stronger desire or a deeper pain. He's in love with Kevin, but Kevin is in love with the games they play. Which is the real monster here? The 400-year-old vampire with a heart, or the teenage psychopath with none?





	Inferno

**Author's Note:**

> I just couldn't get the thought of those two out of my mind ever since I watched the films, so here's a fragment of my innocent (read: twisted) mind, just for fun. From my knowledge of psychology (psychopathy in particular), as well as my own understanding of Kevin, I've concluded that he is, in fact, a psychopath, which means he would NEVER be able to feel love in the real sense of the word. Just to let you know in advance. :) And I'll try my best to keep both he and Jerry in character, so don't expect there to be redemption of any kind. Other than that, please enjoy! And leave comments and kudos if you can. Thank you. :D

 

�

 

Boredom.

It was the only constant in his life, an almost perpetual state of his mind, the burning fuel that drove his actions. Aside from turning Eva's life into a living hell, the motive behind just about everything he did was to alleviate that boredom, to do _something_. Because wasn't that what all human beings did? To make their useless little lives appear less boring? To avoid doing nothing? A clear-cut purpose was never necessary to justify an activity, oh no. Far from it. Sometimes, as he told Eva the other day when the foolish woman had tried and failed miserably in outsmarting him, the point was that there was no point.

 _Crunch_.

But not today.

Today belonged to Kevin Khatchadourian, a rising star that would make his first appearance on stage barely a week before his 16th birthday. Perfect timing, perfect planning, perfect casting.

_Crunch, crunch, crunch._

'...feeling okay?' Eva was saying as she placed a hand over his forehead, another pathetic gesture of pretending to care.

Lips curling, his thoughts wandered to his bow and arrows, and red, red everywhere.

'Never better.'

�

'Hey dad. Would you and Celia like to watch?'

One simple sentence, and there they were, standing compliantly beside him while he readied for his rehearsal. His lips felt parched in anticipation, so he licked them repeatedly with more force than required as he focused on the mark. Bullseye.

'Perfect! You can go pro, son. '

Oh, but they had no idea. With his back to them, Kevin allowed a disgusted twist to surface on his face at Celia's incessant retarded giggling.

He aimed again, but this time he thought of Eva and her treatment of him over the span of his life, that foul piece of fake, self-deceiving 'love'. For real, what did she expect? That he would accept the candies and chocolate with a brainless beam like the rest of the dumbasses? Huh. Not gonna happen, bitch.

Bullseye.

The third time he pulled back on the string, he didn't bother to respond to Franklin and Celia's enthusiasm, and cleared his mind of all useless trains of thought save for Eva's anguished cries and enraged screams.

Kevin whipped around, fully expecting to come face to face with the people that society labelled his 'family' as he released the arrows, but to his disappointment their last breaths were taken with their backs turned, the final looks in their eyes lost to him. He scowled, and wondered just what Celia was pointing at that distracted them from fully participating in the rehearsal; didn't they see that they were in front-row seats?

'Well.' He stood admiring his work for a few more moments. 'It's nothing personal to you anyway.'

After all, their unfortunate deaths were on Eva's conscience, not his, with Franklin also partially responsible for his and his stupid daughter's fate. Speaking of which... Smirking slightly, he bent down, turned Celia's lifeless face over and deftly removed the glass eye from its socket, placing the condensation of Eva's failure in a small plastic bag before stuffing it inside his pocket, careful not to get any blood on his stainless white shirt. Thanks for the souvenir, Celia. Perhaps you were good for something in the end.

Kevin spared them one last glance before heading to the door.

Should've thought better before considering a divorce.

�

There was something satisfying about the clanking sounds the locks made as he secured them over one set of doors after another, and another, and another. Just like his archery kit, they were a means to an end, the fundamental props for his show tonight.

Yet this was more than an everyday show; it would be Kevin’s grand opening in the glorious gala of artful murder.

Standing on the stage, he smiled at the expectant faces below as he welcomed them to his solo act, fitting an arrow into his bow like the talented performer he was. He pulled back.

Hm, did they love his show so much? It was merely the overture, and look, his audience was already tittering on the verge of their seats, squealing with enthusiasm. Why, thank you, now please allow him to introduce act one.

_Two, three, four…_

Vaguely, Kevin realised that his arms should be starting to feel sore by now, yet the adrenaline of the spotlight overcame any speck of exhaustion as easily as a starving viper would devour blind mice.

When he released the last arrow, he was on cloud nine. It was as if his feet weren’t touching solid ground, and Kevin was floating in a mist of bliss and accomplishment. His surroundings dimmed, and his senses were attuned to only his own heartbeat and the crowds cheering, screaming out his name in worship. And, like any great performer would, he bowed gracefully, soaking in the awed attention he was receiving, the thunderous applause sweeter than any music to his ears.

‘Oh, this is impressive.’

A smile-tainted voice, lone clapping, light footsteps. Discordance.

Eyes snapping towards the source of interruption, he found himself in the throes of something foreign- surprise- as he came eye to eye to a stranger. And it was a very strange man indeed: inky black hair and abyss-like eyes, a smile that was probably meant to soothe the onlooker, but Kevin knew better. A stranger, however aesthetically pleasing, who had one of his arrows snapped in half between those fingers was enough to make him instantaneously wary, and coupled with that predatory glint...

Dangerous. Fun.

‘You have good tastes.’ Staying where he was, Kevin responded unblinkingly, his eyes never leaving the man’s lithe, black-clad body. ‘What do you want?’

‘Well, I initially came here to have a snack.’ The man chuckled at what seemed to be a private joke. ‘But look at what I’ve found! An unexpected treat.’

Kevin narrowed his eyes. ‘I think you’re rather confused, mister, unless I’m mistaken and you really want to take an arrow to the heart.’ He gave an undisguisedly fake smile. ‘I don’t have a problem with that either.’

For once, his words failed to produce the desired effect, for the man merely grinned as if greatly amused. ‘How old are you, guy?’

‘Almost 16, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business.’ Kevin sneered slightly. ‘Or are you one of those paedophilic necrophiles that get off on this sort of thing? I bet you couldn’t believe your luck when you stumbled here.’

‘Aw, you’re an interesting one.’

‘And you haven’t denied those claims.’

‘You’ll find, guy, that it’s pointless to assign any of these labels to me.’ Before he realised it, the man was right in front of him, their faces inches apart. But how? ‘The name’s Jerry. What’s yours?’

Kevin raised an eyebrow, unflinching in spite of the proximity. ‘Tom.’

‘Ah, ah, ah.’ Jerry wriggled a finger at him disapprovingly, sniffing the air in a weird fashion as he did so. ‘Good boys don't tell lies. And this kind of petty mockery?’ He proceeded to lean in so that his surprisingly cold breath was just tickling Kevin’s ear, and the teenager had a feeling that this was no harmless citizen. ‘It gives off a scent.’

Time to switch tactics. ‘I’m Kevin.’ He licked his lips. ‘Nice to meet you.’

He could see that Jerry was about to say something when the man suddenly stilled then gave him a knowing smile. ‘The police are coming for you, _Kevin_.’

‘Took them long enough.’ He shrugged, scanning the man’s face. ‘And you’re stuck here. Hm, they’re going to think you’re an accomplice.’

‘Ah yes, about that.’ Swift and effortless as an leopard, Jerry jumped off the stage, extending an arm towards him. ‘I’m going to assume you don’t find prison an appealing place.’

What was he playing at? ‘Yeah well, if you think you can somehow slip past the cops, you must be crazier than I thought.’

‘You can either take it or don’t.’ A nonchalant gesture. ‘I’m not offering again.’

Calmly, Kevin considered his options, or lack thereof. And took Jerry’s outstretched hand.

 

 


End file.
